Chapter 889: Conspiring with Foreign Enemies

It was the night before Prince Jin marched his army north.

Zhao Wuji had just received the news. "He's heading north just like that..." he murmured.

This was hardly the time for a northern campaign.

Yet Prince Jin had dispatched his troops anyway.

This left Zhao Wuji completely baffled.

For all his shamelessness, Prince Jin was never one to act so recklessly. After all, the Prince of Yan was still a player on this chessboard.

Striking directly at Shangjing was simply impossible.

Yet he had gone and done exactly that.

That could only mean Prince Jin had made ample preparations.

"Just what kind of preparations..."

While Zhao Wuji was deep in thought, hurried footsteps rapidly approached.

"My Lord, an urgent report from the Border Pass!"

Zhao Wuji stiffened, a sudden, chilling light flooding his eyes.

"That dog!"

Zhao Wuji slammed his palm onto the table.

The man kneeling before him jumped in fright. Having followed the prince for so long, he had never seen him display such naked fury.

"To actually conspire with foreign enemies!"

In Zhao Wuji's eyes, this crossed every conceivable line.

To seize the realm, he had stooped to allying with foreign powers, plunging the nation into catastrophic peril.

Such a crime was unforgivable!

Zhao Wuji didn't even need to think to know this invasion by the North Desert People was absolutely tied to Prince Jin.

"Your Highness, what do we do now..."

Zhao Wuji forced his temper down, though the sudden surge of rage left his mind turbulent.

He fell into a long silence, unable to reach a decision.

According to the urgent dispatch, the North Desert People had come fully prepared. Their army was even more staggering than the last time. Unless he rallied the entire military might of Yan Land, stopping them would be nearly impossible.

Yet if he ignored Prince Jin and let him march unchecked, this empire would ultimately have nothing to do with him, the Prince of Yan.

This left Zhao Wuji trapped in a bitter dilemma.

On one side was the nation; on the other, his own ambitions.

He could not bear to see the rivers and mountains fall into foreign hands, nor did he want the ruling surname of the empire to change once more. This realm could only belong to the Zhao family!

But forced to choose, Zhao Wuji knew he would defend the Border Pass.

Prince Jin had gambled perfectly on his character.

What Zhao Wuji could not understand was how Prince Jin had known.

Had his true identity been exposed?

From the very beginning, he had never shown his face. He had been meticulously careful every step of the way. How could Prince Jin possibly know?

Zhao Wuji quickly summoned several of his trusted confidants.

"Your Highness, in this subject's eyes, our grand cause is paramount!"

"I agree."

From the perspective of these confidants, the throne naturally took precedence.

Zhao Wuji remained silent. Seeing this, the confidants seemed to guess his true thoughts.

"Your Highness, surely you aren't..."

Zhao Wuji interrupted them. "The Northern Desert harbors the ambitions of wolves. If we allow them into our lands, they will become a catastrophic threat. There is only one Grand Ancestor. If another West Xiao is allowed to form, I fear this realm will never be unified again."

Zhao Wuji knew deeply just how much blood and effort the Grand Ancestor of Xiang had expended to unite the fractured realm.

The North Desert People were a far more terrifying threat than Prince Jin or the Imperial Court.

The world would not see another man like the Grand Ancestor anytime soon.

The confidants fell into silence. They exchanged glances, their eyes already conveying their shared stance.

They cared far more about the throne than any temporary chaos at the Border Pass.

Eventually, one of them spoke up.

"My Lord, the way I see it, if we fail to claim the throne, the entire board is lost. Rather than blocking the North Desert People, we should strike directly. We seize the throne first—it won't be too late to deal with the Northern Desert afterward."

"Please reconsider, My Lord! If we pour our strength into defending the Border Pass, we will only be paving the way for someone else's victory!"

"We beg My Lord to reconsider."

Zhao Wuji found himself backed into a corner.

He was not like his imperial father, who had never needed to care about the opinions of his ministers.

How overbearing his father had been! When he wanted to conquer West Xiao, he merely issued a decree to notify the court. But sitting here today, Zhao Wuji found himself unable to command with that same absolute authority.

Though he was the master of Dayan, the reality was that the bulk of the power lay not in his hands, but in the hands of his father's old subjects.

These men had sought him out for a single purpose: to recreate the Grand Ancestor's legacy and reclaim the empire.

Because of that, Zhao Wuji lacked absolute dictatorial power over them.

Which meant that in this situation, without their support, he would have no choice but to do exactly as they asked.

Zhao Wuji looked down at the men gathered in the hall. They appeared deferential and amiable, but underneath, they were like man-eating demons.

He waved a dismissive hand. "Step down for now. Let me think on this further."

The ministers slowly withdrew.

Only Zhao Wuji remained in the hall.

He let out a soft sigh, overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness.

He was a rational man, of course. He knew perfectly well that seizing the opportunity to strike at the throne was the optimal strategy.

Anyone could understand the logic of two rivals exhausting themselves while a third party reaped the spoils.

And now, Prince Jin had handed him that exact opportunity.

But Zhao Wuji simply could not suppress his inner repulsion. Years ago, his imperial father had driven these North Desert People away to forge this dynasty's foundation. Asking him to abandon the nation to foreign invaders now was something his conscience could never accept.

In the end, the blood flowing through his veins was the blood of the Zhao family!

Zhao Wuji found himself entertaining a single thought, despite how utterly fantastical it seemed.

Late into the night, he finally summoned someone.

It was the very man who had initially sought him out.

A former Shadow Guard who had served by Zhao Zhen's side.

"Tell me," Zhao Wuji said. "Can I drive the North Desert People back first, and then contest the throne?"

The Shadow Guard gave a subtle shake of his head. "Your Highness, even if the Grand Ancestor were alive today, he could not accomplish such a feat."

The candlelight flickered over Zhao Wuji's eyes.

Seeing his gaze, the Shadow Guard felt a jolt in his heart, his mind falling into a sudden daze.

It was the exact same look the Grand Ancestor had worn when he set out to conquer West Xiao. The same absolute resolve, tainted with a touch of madness, yet brimming with the supreme arrogance of an emperor—as if all the affairs of the world rested firmly in the palm of his hand.

Zhao Wuji straightened his posture. "I think otherwise."

The Shadow Guard parted his lips, but he caught himself. He knew he could not reply to that. It was not his place to speak further.

Zhao Wuji glared at him. "Has old age shrunk your courage? When you followed my imperial father, you were never this cowardly!"

The sharp reprimand made the old man beneath the mask tremble.

After a long pause, the Shadow Guard finally recovered his wits. He let out a heavy sigh and bowed his head. "Your Highness, this slave is incompetent..."

Hearing the word 'slave', Zhao Wuji felt a profound wave of disappointment. He realized that these Shadow Guards had long since lost the fiery bloodlust of their youth.

Yet he understood that this was merely the natural erosion of spirit brought on by the passing years.

These old men were no longer the fearless warriors who had once marched beside his imperial father.

Back then, they were the sabers and swords in his father's hands. Now, after surviving the crucible of time and falling into his own, those blades had turned into shields.

A long sigh echoed through the night.

Zhao Wuji suddenly realized something. He had operated from the shadows as the Prince of Yan for so long, but in the end, none of it truly mattered. No matter how prosperous Yan Land became, it had very little to do with him.

The old guard merely needed his title as a banner to recruit soldiers and buy horses. They were simply using the bloodline flowing through his veins to rebuild their former empire.

In the end, he was nothing more than a figurehead.